Prior to seeing such masterpieces as “Stagecoach” and “Shane” the only films in this genre I even gave a second look were the “Young Guns” films. Now, I know they are badly acted, poorly directed and generally very corny but the aces up their sleeve I always referenced were the fact that, based on all the Billy the Kid research I have done, these films were far and away more historically accurate than movies like “Chisum” and (ironically) “The True Story of Jesse James.” I also loved what I perceived to be the uniqueness of incorporating modern-day popular music into a genre where we typically only hear banjos and harmonicas in the soundtrack. It appears “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” at least beat them to the punch on the latter.
Other than the setting and time frame there isn’t really much about this movie that would suggest it is a western. It seems to be more of a light-hearted comedy that happens to have some shootouts rather than an intense, gun-blazing action movie. Also, the two main characters are far from the stereotypical one-dimensional badasses we’re used to seeing in these types of films.
I appreciate the honesty of the director (George Roy Hill) by cutting through the crap right away with the on-screen text “Most of what follows is true.” This all but acknowledges how much artistic license is taken in movies that depict real characters. The introduction of the two main characters is rather drawn-out and made me fearful of the rest of the movie. The sepia-saturated picture tinting is a cool effect that projects the feeling of an old-time photograph but continues after an initial poker-hustling sequence. The continuation of the sepia after the logical stopping point makes it seem like the whole movie may be shot this way, which would just be intolerable- thankfully though, the color does eventually begin to fade in, almost like a sunrise as Butch (Paul Newman) and The Sundance Kid (Robert Redford) ride on horseback over a draw, exposing a vast, sun-glazed countryside.
As Butch and Sundance reunite with their famous Hole-in-the-Wall gang, a slight uprising of sorts is taking places as a faction of turncoats. This scene is important for two reasons; first off it establishes Butch Cassidy’s character as a less than honorable but still lovable guy (he quells the rebellion by agreeing to fight for leadership with another member of the gang, then swiftly kicks him in the balls) and secondly sets the stage for many more laughs to come as well as blatantly bucking the trends of other westerns. In this case the Cowboy Code of Honor concept is, well, kicked squarely in the nuts.
As if podiatrically emasculating his fellow gang member isn’t enough, Butch then steals his idea to rob a money train not once but twice (once on its initial drop and once after reloading with cash after the robbery, assuming their burglars will have already fled with the spoils of their first heist). The ensuing action leads to yet another send-off of the western cliché of the train robbery. In this case though, the robbery is not graceful or flawlessly executed; instead it is bungled and sloppy. Instead of being ruthless and coldhearted the pair ends up showing sympathy for the agent tasked with guarding the money whom they have recklessly blown up by throwing dynamite into the car in an attempt to blast the safe. This uncharacteristic display of humanity coupled with the hilarity of the rest of the train’s crew seeming more starstruck over being robbed by Butch Cassidy than fearful of the fact that they are, well, being robbed by Butch Cassidy.
Following the robbery we are introduced to Sundance’s girlfriend Etta. Though she is presented as something of a prude, bookworm type we soon discover that she is anything but. Not only does she appear to be sexually adventurous but there is a more-than-subtle implication that she is either interested in or has been involved with Butch. In a relatively nonsensical scene Butch takes Etta for a ride on a bicycle (a far cry from the stereotypical horse) as B.J. Thomas’ “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” plays over the scenery like a musical montage… a completely inexplicable musical montage. Obviously I understand that this device is used to show an emotional connection between the two but damn it feels weird. I will take “Blaze of Glory” over B.J. Thomas anytime, but to each their own.
After the strange musical interlude/introduction to Etta we see the gang follow through with their plan to rob the train again. The plan fails epically when it turns out that a posse has been assembled to foil the theft. The pursuit culminates in a worst-of-both-worlds choice: face the music or escape the gunfight by jumping off a cliff into a river down below which may or may not be deep enough to sustain life after a huge plunge. The back and forth banter Redford and Newman exchange in this sequence is tear-inducing. The revelation that Sundance can’t swim is the cherry on the top of the gag sundae.
Needless to say, they jump and live. And the wide-angle vertical shot of the two in free-fall while screaming “SHIIIIIIIIT” is a perfect representation of the whole film- lightheartedness even in the face of grim circumstances. Not only is the placement of such a geographic feature again contrary to a western film, but the majority of the outdoor scenery is. Rather than the massive deserts or sprawling prairies this film is lush with forest and greenery. One more thing about this scene in particular that I believe warrants a nod is the fact that it is so unique and refreshing (and unorthodox) to show a protagonist in a western AVOIDING a gunfight.
As Butch, Sundance and Etta make their way to Bolivia in an effort to escape the law another montage of sorts takes shape- this one far more appropriate and fitting. It is set up when Butch discards his bicycle; as the front wheel spins a clicking noise reminiscent of a film-reel is heard. A collection of still photographs is then shown, playing even more off the rudimentary movie feel, which illustrates the gang’s exploits along the road to Bolivia via New York.
“I'll go with you, and I won't whine, and I'll sew your socks, and I'll stitch you when you're wounded, and I'll do anything you ask of me except one thing. I won't watch you die.” (Etta Place, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”)
Once in Bolivia all the previous little bits of dialogue in the movie that seemed either unimportant or secondary begins to manifest itself into heavy-duty foreshadowing; a sheriff warning them that they are going to be gruesomely killed, Butch and Sundance constantly referencing how they want to “go straight,” Etta agreeing that she is going to go back to the U.S. if the situation becomes hopeless and her subsequent announcement that she is doing just that. These are just a few examples of how the film prepares you for the grimmest of endings. And even that winds up being a surprise when the climactic final gunfight isn’t actually shown and the movie ends as the two charge into certain death gloriously and fearlessly. There is no doubt the two are going to be massacred but we aren’t forced to watch it happen, we get to see them go out with dignity, which is a comfort because, for whatever reason, we like these guys when all is said and done.
Overall, I think the feeling I get from “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” is a fish-out-of-water theme. This movie is a western that bends over backwards to avoid being a western. The characters don’t match up to the ridiculous machismo of westerns prior, the music and mood aren’t quite in context to the subject matter and as I have mentioned before the scenery and personalities of the main characters are decidedly not western. There are definitely ways to parody something without dumping all over it (ala “Scary Movie” or countless Mel Brooks offerings). This film is very much a respectful jab at the genre and in being so makes it strangely unique.
On a totally minor side-note, Cloris Leachman plays the proprietor of a whorehouse, so suck on that Betty White- she was edgy WAAAAAAAAAY before you were!
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